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About this blog

The collection of my wandering, wondering, and maybe a crackpot theory here and there.

Entries in this blog



I’ve been thinking about this for the better part of my workday, and even to now at nearly 10pm... For years I’ve dipped in and out of the tulpamancy community, because I thought that was what we were. However, now I’m not so sure, between me and Gareth it just feels more... median-y, even if he just feels his own person due to our differences. Why median? Because he only ever forces control under times of stress or threat, as well as when he first turned up I was under stress at work. Unlike most tulpas, he just appeared out of nowhere, for which I still don’t believe in a spiritual explanation for, and tied it I my fictionkin identity. For anyone who remembers, the last time he forced a co-front to defend me, it was painful for me and almost disorienting, blurry at best. So I might have been the one typing, but they weren’t my words at all. In conversation he’s like my polar opposite, and short-tempered to match... I’m sure we’ll figure it out, in the end...      



Last night’s wonders

Last night, I got into a conversation with someone internally and I have no idea who it was... Wasn’t Gareth because he’s pretty... loud. And also took *great* joy in calling me a jackass after he’d finished butting into said conversation. As per usual.  Wasn't dad (long story) because they actually seemed to care about me. Go figure, but then they sounded like me so hey... I’m leaning towards fledgling tulpa just from how it sounded, in both tone and mindvoice. And yes, unlike Gareth they’re intentional... So they won’t just turn up out of the blue to scare the crap out of me




It’s 1:30 in the morning, I can’t sleep. Nor can I think of a subject to write even if I wanted to - and I do. So for now I’m open to suggestions as to what to write, kin-related or not.



A new kind of mental shift

I talked about this a bit in my previous post, but I didn’t go into much detail. It’s been happening much more frequently since then, almost every time, every day. Long story short, first set off by surgical complications - If I catch sight of myself, it happens, because I know how hurt I am. And there’s nothing I can do about it either aside from wait until the next appointment. Yay me. For those who don’t know - Back then, in that world, I could harness the life force of those released mythical creatures in order to heal myself, at best instant, at its worst seconds-long. It came in pretty handy at times... Always a warm, energy-heightening feeling that stayed with me in this world. Thing is, I’d never been this hurt before to have experienced this. It’s new. And it’s like a total shock to the system. For split second my mind is in pure and utter disbelief that I can’t do that anymore. Some days it’s hard to wrap my head around it, other days it’s distressing.




This entry will go into my thoughts about my own mortality and how it ties into both my fictionkin identity and my place in Kemetic Orthodoxy.   I guess... I don’t know I guess this has cropped up again. In more detail, more frequently, needing to be put somewhere. (And this may have been partially brought to the surface by a documentary on the Book of the Dead I watched yesterday afternoon.) It seems, as I become more comfortable in myself, it soon turns to the thought of my mortality. Surgical complications aside, which have only bolstered this thought process, I’ve considered this before. Unfortunately, no matter how my intentions are to bring this up, my past actions are against me in that I would be questioned as to why I’d be even thinking about how I want to be treated after my death, or that I was tempting fate. I’m not the best person, nor am I the worst of the worst, but I do often worry that for one reason or another I won’t pass Judgement, and my heart devoured by Ammit. To never exist? Terrifies me. In this world, I obviously don’t have the same abilities or skills I used to have, there’s no way to heal myself in seconds flat, no near-instantaneous way to get rid of any pain. Did it make me feel invulnerable? To a degree, yes... even if it did endanger my life in other ways. I’ve never wanted to be buried in one place, it just doesn’t feel right, even if my very essence wouldn’t be confined. With that brings the thought of having my ashes split, between both my family here, and to be added to the Akhu shrine, of all those Blessed Dead that have gone before me.    



The low frequency

So, I don’t shift often, even if I say my phantom shifts are more common than mental shifts. Part of me puts it down to being human character fictionkin, the other part puts it down to my identity being so deeply entwined that sometimes it isn’t too noticeable. Shifts for me are somewhat odd - and some are downright painful. I recall some phantom shifts of mine were pretty much like a direct reliving of the event, and thankfully it has never happened since.



This world feels wrong...

It does, and not just because it’s my birthday today, I was like this all yesterday as well. I’ve felt strange, just so out of place both at work and at home. Those feelings of being adopted have come back to the surface alongside that, which really tries to dampen my day. I guess sometimes it went into near-dissociative experiences at work, being here but not here, my mind was probably a lot more inwardly focused than I thought. I miss my home, I miss being home, to an extent my shifting has gone back and forth on a scale. Here one moment and gone the next, heh, and it’s always so much more prominent when I go shooting - not my fault some of the beams still look low enough to hit my head on. That’s always an odd kind of shift, I guess. Being inches taller than I actually am. It’s just a pull, a tug, but it’s still there regardless.



Short but sweet dreams

Been a while since I’ve had a kin-related dream, so I’ll try and put down as much as I can remember. Sadly not a dream-shift, unless it counted as more of an involuntary mental shift, heh. - I was at home channel-surfing, when I came across a TV series version of my source on the schedule list, set up to record. I hadn’t done it, so I assumed my parents had. ”There’s a tv series about my life now?” Was about the only thing I recall saying, in pure amusement. Which is what led me to believe it was a mental shift as I was still as I am in this world. - And then it ended. Vivid, but short.




As the title suggests, I feel restless, like there’s an itch I just can’t get to. Homesickness keeps coming and going - and this is even without any other canon feeling to it. I feel like what my coworker told me is going around in my head, much more louder than before. There has to be a reason for that, and it’s split thoughts as to whether to pursue that or not. And no I don’t think the two are connected. ... what if I’m wrong? I’m also hungry, which is probably playing a part in this.




I miss my home. Im not even a big city person in this world and yet I miss just that. Moments where I crave the loud, the crowd, the surrounding, the sheer feeling of belonging. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I went now, what I’d feel for being in that place so close to my being. It being my canon or not never really comes into play, with my source pretty much being modern Earth anyway. Luckily, I guess, NYC soundscapes are a pretty common thing on YouTube, and they seem to help me out. I know Americanism of speech has come through from being around differing communities, shows and so on, but it just seems natural, even if in my accent it seems as odd as anything. Some days I get flashes of being there, which still leave me with that feeling of longing and being in the wrong place. But they were more recently triggered by what my coworker said which I mentioned in my previous entry - usually those flashes are of being stood on the ledge of a building, the roads beneath me in a T junction, yellow cabs so prominent. Packed as well.



A Shaky Start... and Night

So, this was interesting yesterday, even if it does still leave me shaken, and I plan to continue this discussion with him. ... I thought my first blog post would be a re-introduction, perhaps not... Anyway. A colleague at work is interested in this sort of thing, having an alternate life himself, so we got talking. I got talking about my experiences, and he listens rather intently, fascinated. Then, out of the blue, in dead seriousness he asks me- “Did you jump off a building?” And I froze. And went uncomfortably clammy. I was defensive, repeatedly saying that “I won’t go back there”. Thing is, I have no recollection of that, and I strongly believe this is an entirely separate incident, or at least a very similar identity to mine now. I’ve never liked heights, when looking down from buildings always feeling like something will go wrong, like I will just jump - never been in real danger of that though. It kept me up at night, like there was something there, something I was missing but so close to... scarily and upsettingly close to. It never came to the surface that night. Maybe it will... I’m curious to see where this goes.